


Goosebumps: The Devils Melody

by TwistedWytch



Category: Goosebumps, Night of the Living Dummy - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 22:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedWytch/pseuds/TwistedWytch
Summary: Eloise has always heard a strange melody on the wind. A melody nobody else around her seems to hear. It might be a pleasant tune but she soon finds that strange and terrible things happen when it plays. Devilish and bloody things that she can’t begin to understand nor avoid. The only clue to figuring out this gruesome mystery lies with a mysterious man that carries around an eerie puppet by the name of Slappy.





	Goosebumps: The Devils Melody

**Author's Note:**

> It may be Goosebumps, but theres a far more adult mindset in this storytelling. Reader beware, you’re in for a scare.

I look back on those days and don’t particularly see where my train of luck ran so desperately off the tracks. Some may say it was when I met Him but, truth is my luck was worse for wear way before that. Far back in the younger days of my childhood I would fathom. About 5 or 6 years of age if you want to get real technical about the whole thing. 

I remember it was raining one day. Don’t ask me the exact date because stranger let me tell you all those days have long since melted into a grey mass. It’s nothing but a pit of unpleasantness. Mixing and churning together like the river styx. Complete with gnarled appendages taking form and reaching out into the din to snatch you up. It’s a constant feeling of dread and destain when I try to sift through all those painful memories. So you’ll understand if this telling seems a bit jumbled in places.

Now to quote myself earlier, it was raining that day, but not the kind of quaint spring downpour you may be thinking. No, the sky was thick with dark grey clouds and swirling masses of dust and sand taken inland from the beachfront. It was like god had completely diverted his gaze from us and spat us out of glory. Only furthering this perverse form of thought was the unnatural way everything seemed to be harboring a dingy monochrome sorta hue. Like all the color was being sucked right out of the world. Everything the eye could see was a greying form of what it once was and I remember feeling so frightened then.

In my small child brain I felt like it all was fading away, but my mother and everyone else in the household didn’t seem to notice. It was either that or they didn’t really care as I witnessed them droning on with the motions. Fake emotions plastered so plainly to their faces like they were too tired to bother with the seemingly easy details of friendly respect. Instead they barely gave a nod to one another as they passed by. Only giving so much as a sound when they absentmindedly bumped into one another. 

It was maddening. Far to maddening for my child mind to bear. Thus I found myself seated at the window, staring out at the cascade of water along the glass. It’s forces distorting the otherwise prestienly kept neighborhood. It was a scene I remembered from a book my mother had once read to me but I was certain that no giant cat would appear to give me an adventure in fun and mischievous behavior. No there was nothing coming for me. Nothing but the faint sound of the waters patter upon the peigns. 

It was at that second that I first heard it. The whorse whisper of fate coming to damn me to a life of sorrow. Of course at that time it sounded more like a soft melody. Lighthearted and soothing like someone was playing happiness itself as an instrument. I will never forget that sound as long as I live. It almost defies any description I can successfully give to you beyond what I already have. It was something far more otherworldly then anything that would come hereafter.

I remember it so well. The notes seemed to flow on the wind itself, encircling my ears like a gentle hug. It filled me with such a curiosity that the thought of sneaking outside was only in my head for a moment before I had slipped out the front door. It was surprisingly easy to do. I recken it was because everyone else was busy on the routine track they had so dutifully traveled that what I was doing wasn’t something fathomable in the deepest parts of their minds just yet. Thus, I was able to slip on my shoes and coat and toddle down the porch steps all by my loathsome.

The air was uncomfortable. Lukewarm and heavy. It made it hard to breath, like I was standing in smoke. Nevertheless it seemed tolerable at that moment as the calm music snaked its way around me. Seemingly pulling my tiny body down the glum sidewalk. As I look back now, I wonder why I never turned back. I do not remember what thoughts ran through my head that day. Nor do a recall completely how I got to the park a few blocks down, but when I finally began to refocus myself, that is where I found that I had ended up.

Normally the park was a happy place. I could remember the days when my mother took me there and let me play for hours on end while she talked to the other dads that were there. I would have so much fun and be so tired afterwards that I would take an hour long nap upon reaching home. However today I wasn’t there to play. The music had lead me here but why? What could it possibly want for me here? There was nothing of value here right now. No kids to play with, no animals to role in the grass along side. Yes the equipment was here but, the dingy day had made it all look so cold and ominous.

As so stood in place pondering what to do next K heard the music pick up again. This time with a frequency much more dark then the lighthearted pixie like tone from before. Yet still I followed. Some sort of subconscious obligation I guess. To this day I still don’t understand it all fully. I suppose you could blame in on my childlike curiosity if you wanted. Everyone else seemed to do just that, but they don’t know for sure. They couldn’t possibly fathom what I saw on this day or why it did what it did. Even I dear reader. Somethings are so horrifying that the mind erases them completely. Yet further still, traces of those horrors maybe left behind. Such was my case.

I remember nothing but walking over to the far corner of the park to a small grove of trees then next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital with my mother crying over me. She kept saying my name over and over again frantically. 

“Eloise, Eloise! My precious girl! My dear baby girl.”

My father on the other hand had always been a firm man and as such merely looked at me with a mold show of concern before heading out of the room to speak with a doctor. It turns out that they had found me just inside the sheltered grove. I was stone cold, my once folded hair was now a light silvery hue like and my eyes. The bright brown orbs I had been born with were like merky ash. It was like someone had taken me and dipped into a black and white film. 

I remember staring at myself in the mirror for hours on end. Not believing what was right in front of my eyes. The doctor had tried to explain that it was a rare phenomena that took place on times of great stress or fear. Of course my family immediately through me into council of, but that didn’t move along as smoothly as they liked. They insisted that whatever horror had happened must have been some mix of real world events and my own imagination. Problem was I couldn’t agree nor disagree and things only got worse from there as I grew.


End file.
